The Awkwardness of Starters
by G.Storm59
Summary: Yamamoto loves Gokudera so much that it hurts sometimes. But it's a lot harder than he originally thought to confess to him. He wonders if everything bewtween him and Gokudera will always be this awkward.


**(A/N) Hey, I know a lot of you guys were looking forward to the next chapter of "Luck" when I uploaded this, so I apologize for that. Luck will be continued, I promise you that! But I need to take a small break from it so that I can get back into the funk of writing it. Until then, I hope you enjoy this little story that's been bubbling around in my head.**

Yamamoto fidgeted on the roof as he waited, and hoped he would actually follow his request, for Gokudera to come up as well.

It had been awkward, to say the least, when he had stuttered his way into asking Gokudera to meet him. Gokudera had just given him a look, the look that said, "This better mean something or I'm kicking your ass," and agreed gruffly to come. Yamamoto's heart fluttered. He loved every aspect of Gokudera; from his death glares to the rare moments when he could actually be seen with a smile on his face, even if he tried to hide it.

Yamamoto just hoped he had the courage to tell him that.

And so he fidgeted.

Suddenly Yamamoto's nose caught the scent of nicotine and cinnamon; an immediate sign that the bomber, his secret crush, was coming.

If Yamamoto had been nervous before, now he was an emotion beyond nervous. He wasn't sure what to call it, but one thing he did know was that it wasn't hyper-ventilation. Yet. He was now fidgeting worse than before, his cheeks were bright red with nervousness, and he felt like his heart had lodged itself into his throat.

If Gokudera _ever _knew what his scent did to Yamamoto, he would certainly use it to his advantage.

The door to the roof creaked open and Gokudera appeared, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Yamamoto nearly forgot how to breathe.

Gokudera was wearing his favorite white sweatshirt over a red T-shirt with a print of what appeared to be the Loch Ness monster on it. Three of his skull and crossbones belts laced around his hips, covering the waistline of his skinny jeans. His rings glittered on almost every finger and his assortment of accessories covered their appropriate places. To top off the look, Gokudera had tied his hair back into that short ponytail that Yamamoto loved so much.

Yamamoto hoped that Gokudera knew how to perform CPR.

Gokudera trudged over to where Yamamoto was standing and leaned against the fence, giving Yamamoto a bored look as he took out his lighter and lit his cigarette.

"What did you call me up for, baseball idiot?" Gokudera asked, blowing smoke right into Yamamoto's face.

Despite his nervousness, Yamamoto couldn't help but smile. As much as he hated Gokudera smoking, he was absolutely sexy when he did. And Yamamoto couldn't help but love that nickname. Baseball idiot. So true, right?

Then the weight of Gokudera's question came down on his shoulders. This was it. All of Yamamoto's nervousness came back in a wave and he found that he couldn't breathe for another reason.

"Um… I… c-called… uh… for… ah," Yamamoto stuttered, cringing at how stupid he sounded. Gokudera raised an eyebrow and Yamamoto nearly fainted when he saw a smile pulling at the edges of the Italian's lips.

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Gokudera snorted, which was probably the closest thing to a laugh that Yamamoto was going to get out of the bomber.

"Uh… I… Will…" Yamamoto sighed, a blush coming onto his face, and decided to start over. "Will you…come to my dad's sushi restaurant after school today? He's making some new stuff and he wants one of my friends to taste test it…"

Gokudera stared at him blankly and Yamamoto flinched. That's not what he'd meant to say! Now not only did he fail at telling Gokudera how much he loved him, but he looked even more like a complete idiot! Yamamoto's cheeks burned with shame. He wished he could crawl into a hole somewhere and die.

"You called me all the way up here just to say that?" Gokudera snorted before dropping the butt of his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with his foot. Yamamoto stared at the butt and wished it were him. That way he could die, and at least Gokudera would be touching him in some way…

Yamamoto shook the perverted thoughts out of his head and put on a, very forced, bright smile.

"Haha, well I guess I wanted to ask you alone so that Tsuna wouldn't get jealous that I didn't ask him!" Yamamoto lied, wincing at the lame excuse. He really was bad at lying. He knew mentioning Tsuna was like stepping on a landmine. Gokudera was so over-protective that Yamamoto didn't know when it was safe to say "Tsuna" in front of him. Gokudera's eyes narrowed.

"M-my dad wanted a taste test from someone who really knew food and wouldn't be afraid to say it was horrible! He knew you were the right person!" Yamamoto quickly added. Well, part of it was true. Tsuyoshi would prefer someone who could tell him something was awful, and Tsuna was definitely not the person to ask for that. He was too nice.

Gokudera's eyes were still narrowed, but Yamamoto didn't see him reaching for any part of his body which was a good sign. Though, he wouldn't mind dying today. He was such an idiot!

"Fine," Gokudera sighed. Yamamoto blinked. Huh? Did he really just agree? Gokudera snorted at Yamamoto's gaping look before shoving past him as he made his way off the roof.

"You know I can't deny free food!" He called back over his shoulder.

All Yamamoto could do was gape at the Italian's retreating figure. God, he was beautiful. And he was coming over later today…

Suddenly a big grin appeared on Yamamoto's face. Gokudera was coming over to his house later today! He could make up for his stupid actions! He hummed happily as he made his way off the roof.

He would confess to Gokudera today!

* * *

><p>Yamamoto was bouncing with excitement as the trio of him, Gokudera, and Tsuna walked home. He still couldn't believe that he had successfully gotten Gokudera to come over, even though they were walking right next to each other, and he couldn't wait! Sure, he was still nervous about the confession he was going to make, but he wasn't going to let that ruin some quality time with Gokudera! He just hoped that Gokudera wouldn't gush over Tsuna the whole time.<p>

When they finally parted ways with Tsuna, Gokudera's mood seemed to sink and Yamamoto's heart along with it. He wanted Gokudera to be able to enjoy himself at his house, or at least complain so he was paying attention to it. He didn't want him to think about how Tsuna wasn't there.

The rest of the walk was extremely awkward. Yamamoto tried to start up conversation, but Gokudera would just ignore him and stare at a point in the distance. Yamamoto had never been more relieved to reach his house in his entire life.

"Yo, Pops, I'm home!" Yamamoto called out as he held the _nori _up for Gokudera to walk in through.

The restaurant was busy, as it always was at this time of day. Late stragglers for lunch were laughing and eating and early-comers for dinner were already breaking into the sake bottles. His father was working busily, doing his famous chopping fish act for the customers. There was a lot of clapping and merry going all around, as per usual in Yamamoto's house. Yamamoto couldn't help but smile at the cheerful atmosphere of his home, but it quickly faded when he looked over at Gokudera.

The Italian looked extremely uncomfortable. His eyes darted everywhere, like he couldn't tell where to keep his eyes. His fingers were twitching, like they either wanted a cigarette or blow something up and were trying to refrain from doing so. Yamamoto was glad for that. Neither of the two options seemed rather appealing. Gokudera's breathing seemed to be more quick and uneven and Yamamoto was concerned that the bomber would pass out.

"Gokudera? Are you okay?" He asked, looking at Gokudera in concern as he put his hand on the other's shoulder. Gokudera flinched and slapped Yamamoto's hand off him.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, but he didn't look anywhere near fine. Yamamoto wondered if the sheer number of people made Gokudera uncomfortable.

Hoping to calm the panicking Italian, Yamamoto dragged him behind the counter into the kitchen where there were no people. Gokudera visibly relaxed; his shoulders fell down and he let out a huge breath before sitting down at the kitchen table. He tried to pretend like he was incredibly bored, as he propped his head up on his arm, but his eyes were still slightly panicked.

Yamamoto looked at his friend in concern before going to the counter and helping his dad prepare sushi. Gokudera probably needed some time to recompose himself. So he helped his dad all through rush hour. Or hours. "Rush hour" at Takesushi basically went from early afternoon to closing time. It was late when Tsuyoshi finally finished closing up and brought his food test out for Gokudera to eat. Yamamoto, who was washing his hands at the sink, heard Tsuyoshi make a strange noise. It sounded like he was looking at a kitten.

Puzzled, Yamamoto dried his hands off on a towel and poked his head into the dining room type thing that took up half of his kitchen. His heart almost exploded when he saw what his father was looking at. His cheeks heated and he found a wide smile on his face.

Gokudera was fast asleep on his dining room table. His face was flat on the surface and his silver hair splayed gracefully around his head. He was absolutely adorable and Yamamoto had to resist the urge to run to him and wrap him in a tight hug.

Tsuyoshi placed the tray with his new sushi on the table quietly before turning to his son, a small smile on his face. He tip-toed across the room to where Yamamoto was, Yamamoto trying not to laugh at how dumb his dad looked.

"You should probably take him up to your room for now," Tsuyoshi whispered, gesturing at Gokudera with his thumb. Yamamoto's cheeks flamed, but he nodded and looked down in an effort to hide it.

He went over to the sleeping Italian, blushing as he got in close proximity and could smell that wonderful scent. He looked down at him, wondering how he was supposed to get him from here to his bedroom without waking him. Tsuyoshi rolled his eyes at his son.

"Pick him up bridal style!" Tsuyoshi called out, a mischievous grin on his face. It was clear how his son felt about the boy sleeping at his table, and he couldn't help but tease them a little.

Yamamoto gaped at his father, his cheeks so warm they felt like they were on fire. _Bridal style?_ He looked back down at Gokudera, who had shifted slightly and was now almost falling off the table. Yamamoto leaned down to catch him before he could fall off completely and decided that he might as well pick him up now. He just hoped he didn't get killed for this.

Shifting his arm that was already propping up Gokudera's back, Yamamoto placed his other arm underneath the Italian's knees and hoisted him up until he was resting securely against his chest. Gokudera was surprising light and Yamamoto couldn't help but look down at him in wonder. It must be illegal for someone to be this beautiful.

It was when Yamamoto started to head upstairs that two events happened in an unbelievably fast time. Or at least it was fast to Yamamoto.

The first thing was that Gokudera shifted. Now, that doesn't seem too catastrophic of a, oh my god, freak out. But Gokudera had shifted so that his head was nuzzling against Yamamoto's chest. Yamamoto's cheeks flamed again. Oh god, this adorable Italian was nuzzling his chest subconsciously. Yamamoto's heart was beating so fast and loud that he was surprised that Gokudera didn't wake up.

The minute he thought that, Gokudera's eyes snapped awake. Yamamoto froze, not knowing what to do. Should he put him down before the bomber realized what was happening and decided to send Yamamoto to the afterlife early? Or should he make up some lame excuse? Jeez, why did he have to jinx himself like this?

Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, Yamamoto didn't have to make a decision because apparently Gokudera was very aware what was happening the moment he'd opened his eyes. His cheeks had flushed instantly, from anger or embarrassment Yamamoto couldn't tell though he highly doubted the latter, and his eyes widened.

Yamamoto should've anticipated the punch to his jaw.

But he didn't, and he was so startled that he dropped Gokudera; which was apparently what the Italian wanted. He landed on his feet and turned back to glare at Yamamoto, his cheeks still very bright red.

"What the hell are you doing?" He demanded as Yamamoto rubbed the spot where Gokudera had hit him. For such a small body, Gokudera could really pack a punch. Yamamoto averted his gaze from Gokudera's eyes that were blazing with anger. He hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you… So I was carrying you up to my room…" Yamamoto didn't know why he felt so guilty. Maybe it was because he had enjoyed carrying the Italian in his arms.

"I didn't ask for your charity," Gokudera scoffed, pushing past Yamamoto and heading downstairs. "I'm going home."

When Gokudera's footsteps faded, it took a moment to realize that he hadn't confessed again. Panic struck him. He couldn't, and wouldn't, let Gokudera get away from him again!

His eyes suddenly blazing with determination, he ran down the stairs and out of his house; hoping to catch up to the bomber before he lost him. To his luck, Gokudera's silver hair could be faintly seen down the street. It didn't appear he was running, and Yamamoto was fast anyway. He picked up the pace.

"Gokudera!" Yamamoto called when he was in hearing distance. The bomber looked behind him before starting to run. "Gokudera, please wait!"

The Italian finally stopped, turning back to glare at Yamamoto. Yamamoto was surprised to see Gokudera's flushed cheeks with the cold air blowing around them. Yamamoto had been _running _and his cheeks weren't red.

"What do you want?" Gokudera growled, keeping a calculating distance away from Yamamoto. He acted like the baseball player was going to jump him.

"Gokudera, I really like you!" Yamamoto said quickly before he could lose his nerve. He stared down at his feet, his cheeks red with embarrassment and nervousness. "Will you go out with me?"

Silence stretched between them. Yamamoto didn't dare look; couldn't bear to see the look of rejection he most likely would get. However, eventually curiosity got the better of him and he looked up.

Gokudera's face was a mask of complete shock. His eyes were wide and he was completely frozen. His hands twitched slightly and his breathing seemed to have stopped.

Yamamoto didn't know how to decipher this. Was this rejection? Acceptance? Or could Gokudera just not process anything at the moment? He risked it and waved an arm in front of Gokudera's face.

Gokudera blinked and immediately looked down at his feet. His bangs were covering his expression so Yamamoto couldn't see, but he did hear the tiny voice of a whisper that made his heart leap out of his throat.

"…Yes…"

Now Yamamoto was frozen in shock. Yes? Yes? Yes? A wide smile appeared on Yamamoto's face and he flung himself at the bomber, wrapping his arms around his small frame. Gokudera yelped in surprise but didn't move out of the embrace.

Yamamoto couldn't help but admire how well their bodies fit together as he grinned wildly. Gokudera seemed to be made to be held in his arms; his head came right underneath his chin and his body fit perfectly inside the circumference of Yamamoto's arms. Yamamoto placed his chin on top of Gokudera's head and breathed in his scent. It felt so good to finally be able to call the Italian his. He moved his head slightly so that he could talk into Gokudera's ear. His body hummed as he felt the Italian shiver.

"Why don't you stay at my house tonight? We could sleep together~"

Gokudera was out of his grasp and away from him in a matter of seconds. Yamamoto blinked in confusion, wondering where the warmth he'd been holding went. He looked around and saw Gokudera a few meters away from him, cheeks bright red.

"N-no way in hell am I ready for that!" He stuttered. Yamamoto tilted his head to the side. Ready for what? Yamamoto thought back on his words. And then it clicked.

Oh.

_Oh._

Yamamoto's cheeks darkened and he waved his hands in front of him desperately. He slowly approached Gokudera like he was a tiger he was trying to trap.

"I-I didn't mean it like that! I meant, like, _literally _sleep together! You know, you and me in the same bed together sleeping…" Yamamoto trailed off. He sounded so stupid, but Gokudera seemed to have gotten the point and was slowly walking back towards to baseball player. His cheeks were still bright red, and he eyed Yamamoto warily.

"M-maybe some other time, after I've gotten used to this whole…" Gokudera waved his arms in the air indicating him and Yamamoto, "… _us_ thing."

Yamamoto nodded in understanding and wrapped his arms around Gokudera again. He was relieved when the Italian let him do so. He placed his chin on Gokudera's head and stared down into the silver mass of hair.

"How about tomorrow then?" Yamamoto asked innocently. Gokudera tilted his head up to glare at him, causing Yamamoto's face to fall down and their faces to be inches apart. They snapped back to their original position, cheeks flushed and hearts beating fast in unison. They almost made it to first base, and neither boy was quite ready for that.

"Tomorrow does not give me any time to get used to anything!" Gokudera growled. "Besides, I have work tomorrow."

"Work? What do you mean work? You're only fifteen! You shouldn't have to work!" Yamamoto whined, his eyes widening. Why should his little bomber have to earn money so desperately? Gokudera snorted.

"I'm sorry rent doesn't pay itself!" He snapped. Yamamoto cringed and felt stupid for the millionth time that day. He'd forgotten that Gokudera lived alone.

"How about this weekend?" Gokudera sighed, burying his head in Yamamoto's chest in hopes of hiding the blush on his face. Yamamoto smiled because he could feel the warmth of Gokudera's cheeks through his shirt.

"Of course~" Yamamoto smiled happily and hummed into Gokudera's hair. Gokudera coughed awkwardly.

"Well, I guess I better go home now…" Gokudera broke their embrace and started walking back down the street, waving behind him.

Yamamoto pouted. He would not let his new boyfriend just leave him like that! He ran after the Italian and wrapped him in a tight hug from behind. Gokudera yelped and shivered as Yamamoto leaned down to talk in his ear again.

"Come on, let me walk you home!" Yamamoto insisted.

"I don't need an escort!" Gokudera snapped, rolling his eyes. But he didn't stop Yamamoto from walking beside him.

The night was dark and chilly and Yamamoto was unbelievably cold. He should've brought his jacket. He glanced at Gokudera and saw that the bomber seemed fine. Determined not to seem weak, Yamamoto forced himself to stop shivering.

As they neared Gokudera's apartment, Yamamoto decided to experiment. He reached out with his hand and took Gokudera's small hand in his. His hand was smooth and pale, unlike Yamamoto's which was tan and calloused. Gokudera flinched, but his hand didn't drop. Yamamoto didn't dare look at the Italian's face. He didn't want to ruin this perfect moment as he slowly interlaced their fingers.

**(A/N) That's not the end; or at least not yet. There's still some more if I actually get to writing it :P Hope you enjoyed~ **


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